Pickles and Depredation: The Man with No Shame (PaD 3)
by NuclearCookout
Summary: One by one, Raozya defeats other Trainers on the outskirts of Camphrier Town...until an exceptionally disturbed one arrives. Like a vile odor, this Trainer will not leave him alone, slowly driving him insane. Can former Cianwood City Gym Leader Chuck help Raozya...or will he only add to the madness? Will Raozya's sadistic Espurr merely sit & watch? (X/Y. Rated T for mild violence.)
1. Chapter 1

Society had long stated that there were certain rules by which one was to abide. Perhaps the most prominent was that if you were to succeed in the world, you must go with the flow and not question those who were in the social elite class. You behaved a certain way, you looked a certain way, and you spoke a certain way.

Raozya could never find it in his heart to abide by these figurative chains. His free spirit demanded deviation and nothing less. It required uniqueness; individuality. He was not content to follow along with society's cookie-cutter philosophies, but rather to behave in such a way that exclaimed individuality. It was his _raison d'être_. The boldness of his nature lived and breathed the act of making possible the impossible; to cut the cookie-cutters; to throw the opinions of the stuffed-shirt elitists back in their faces and sa—

Chunks of grass and dirt scattered like confetti before Raozya could finish his thought. It took him a few more moments to realize that the airborne turf had been created by his sliding impact with the ground.

The miniature disaster went largely unnoticed by Napalm and Joas — Raozya's Braixen and Espurr, respectively. Sitting under a shade tree, Napalm had his nose buried firmly in a book titled _Speech_ _for Idiots_. He had accidentally evolved into a Braixen two days earlier as a result of Tierno's supercharged healer machine. The combination of his new, more humanoid appearance, as well as his envy of Joas' ability to talk, had motivated him to begin speech lessons.

Joas was more than eager to assist. After all, he figured his impish affinity for hurling insults at Raozya could be twice as fun if he had Napalm doing it alongside him.

Dazed, Raozya pushed himself up and spat out a mouthful of dirt. Aside from the pain that was shooting across his entire body, something felt...wrong. His push-up was far heavier than usual, as though there was a foreign mass on his back other than his backpack.

"M-ma...maku...hita..."

 _Okay, weird noise._ He glanced over his shoulder and found a large yellow trash bag sitting on his back. The bag had apparently been filled with lard, judging by the way it felt, and light smoke was rising from it. Frustrated by the idea that someone would have attacked him with a bag of garbage, he pushed himself up further, allowing the bag to roll off.

The fact that the bag stood up and walked away nearly made Raozya go grayscale with fear. _Whoa, wait, is that a Pokémon?_

Raozya pulled his Pokédex from a painful indentation on his hip and aimed it at the creature that had collided with him. The device spoke with a tinny, robotic tone, "Makuhita, the Gutsy Punching Bag Pokémon. Not unlike a zombie, Makuhita always gets back on its feet no matter how many times it's knocked over. This is due to how its brain is incapable of realizing when enough is enough. 90% of its body mass consists of lard and cholesterol."

A curious brow crept up Raozya's dirt-encrusted forehead. "Weird. Reminds me of Snorlax, or Tierno."

The latter name brought back some painful memories and a wince. It had been two days since he had met the rotund teenager, and their overnight gaming party had left Raozya with a newfound lack of faith in strangers. Tierno's psychotic smile and giggling, as well as his disturbingly extreme obsession with dancing, had given Raozya more than enough reason to avoid him for the remainder of his days.

"HEYYY! HEYYY! Sorry!"

Raozya rolled himself off of his stomach and sat up to investigate the source of the voice. A kid was running toward him, waving his arms and displaying a concerned expression. He was wearing a baseball cap, jacket, and shoulder-perched Pikachu — these items spurred Raozya's memory. If this was the same kid from nearly a week ago, he knew he needed to be prepared for chaos.

Straightening himself back up to his five-foot-six stature, Raozya dusted himself off and shook the grass and dirt from his red ponytail. Being a Zoroark disguised as a human, this was more of a feat than the average Joe would have expected since his visible ponytail was only a small fraction of the true size of his mane. As a result, grass and dirt appeared to flutter from thin air.

The kid came to a stop in front of Raozya, panting and puffing from his frantic sprint. "Hey, I hope you're not hurt. I'm Ash, from Pallet Town. I was in a battle, and Pikachu here sent that Makuhita flying."

"Pika!" squealed the cheerful electric Pokémon.

Raozya had no idea where Pallet Town was, but he thought he had heard of it before. It had probably been on the news, perhaps as the site of a natural disaster or a nuclear meltdown; he couldn't remember. That just went to show how important it was to him.

Ash extended a hand in greeting, which Raozya reluctantly accepted with a handshake. He made sure to use his illusory skills to give Ash the physical sensation of shaking a human hand instead of three claws and a furry palm.

Raozya forced a smile. "Not a problem. These things happen."

Ash smiled and kept his grip firm, preventing the now-surprised Raozya from pulling away. "So, you doing some training around here?"

 _Why won't he let go?_ "Eh, yeah, here and there."

Struggling didn't help. Ash's grip was a vice. "That's cool! Since we're buddies now, can I have some money? I'm kinda short right now, and Pikachu ran out of ketchup."

Pikachu eyes were now locked with Raozya's, doe-like and bleary. A pouty lower lip finished out the doleful ensemble.

Raozya's heart plummeted into his shoes. Was this kid for real? In the event that this wasn't a joke, Raozya's mind raced to come up with an excuse that seemed at least somewhat plausible. "Oh, uh, nope, sorry. Spent it all on...stocks. Pocket's empty." _Empty for you, anyway. UNHAND ME, DIRTY CHILD._

Ash immediately released his grip, his face painted with the unmistakable hue of disappointment. "Aww, okay. Well, we oughta be going now! See ya!"

Raozya gave a passionless wave as Ash made his way across the field in search of another Trainer to battle. No more than five seconds passed before Team Rocket erupted from the ground only a few feet away from Ash. They were inside a giant robot that resembled an old-style deep-diving suit, but it was hunchbacked and had a drill in place of its right hand. Its oversized, spherical head featured several glowing green eyes, giving the bulky robot a more menacing appearance than what was usual for Team Rocket.

The thieving trio recited their team motto — wearily overused in Raozya's opinion — and began their pursuit, prompting Ash to make a run for it while riding his Pikachu like a Rapidash.

A Furfrou balancing on a beach ball and juggling a dozen Joltik would have made more sense than this. Just as it was with any unexplainable mystery, Raozya casually shrugged it off. All he knew was that Ash probably had it coming. His mouth curled into a tiny smile. _Heh heh, stocks._

He headed over to a tree within proximity to the one that Napalm and Joas were studying under, and took a seat atop a large, exposed root. After sliding his backpack off his shoulders and into his lap, he excavated a small, colorful jar that was filled with pickled peppers.

The sight of the little green delicacies summoned a growl from within his stomach — a gastric trumpet call of culinary anticipation. While he usually preferred to avoid spicy food, the jar's text promised a very mild experience that was far more sour than spicy. That had been enough to spur his curiosity and the associated purchase.

Curiosity, he soon learned, could be a double-edged sword. The first problem he noticed was that the twist-off lid was missing a warning label, namely a warning that the user's primary hobby should be bodybuilding. He initially believed that he would need a wrench or some other sort of industrial-grade leverage to force the lid off, but it finally succumbed to his strained twisting and nearly threw him from his seat.

The second and arguably more pertinent problem was how the first bite tasted nothing like the label had said. 'Sour' and 'fire' were not the same flavor, and he could taste nothing but the latter.

Raozya's oversized Drowning Flood Master Lemonade bottle was reduced to half of its volume before the inferno on his tongue was extinguished. It took a little longer for him to catch his breath and relax his horror-widened eyes. _I wonder how many people have sued them for false advertising. At least I know Napalm will love these._

His backpack received the jar once more before being slipped back on. He abandoned his seat for a stretch, popping his back and sighing. Did life really need to be so cruel?

"HEY, YOU!"

Perhaps it did. An air horn would have been easier on Raozya's nerves. His eyes automatically focused on another child who was standing a mere three feet away, occupying a spot that had been completely vacant of human life nary a moment earlier. Raozya had to force his teeth to stop clenching before he could talk. "Hi."

Pulsing veins on the kid's neck led up to a face that far exceeded the intensity of the average drill sergeant. Jittery from what had most likely been the consumption of untold quantities of sugar and caffeine, the kid pointed a dramatic finger at his new target. "I, THE GREAT STEVE, CHALLENGE YOUUUUU TO A PO-KAY-MAWN MATCH! PREPARE TO TASTE UTTER, CRUSHING DEFEAT, NOOB!"

It must have been a full moon, or maybe a virus was going around. Maybe Team Flare had released hallucinogens into the air in preparation for an attack. All of these options raced through Raozya's head as he attempted to make sense of the situation.

 _I would gladly take Tierno over this, buuut I might as well have some fun._ Raozya pushed his doubts aside, relaxed his muscles, and shot the kid a challenging look. "I think the only noob here is you, Stephanie. I hope you brought extra diapers, because you will be needing them." _Take that._

A light tremor pulsed through the ground and traveled straight into the apprehension centers of Raozya's brain. This caught the attention of Napalm and Joas, drawing their gaze over to what was likely going to become a cratered battlefield.

Steve's face twisted into what was perhaps the most intense expression of rage that Raozya had ever witnessed. The latter lamented the fact that Poké Balls were incapable of capturing humans; he would have loved to have this little bundle of anger on his battle roster. He still had much research to do on this, but his training took precedence and thus occupied nearly all of his time. He wanted his first Gym Badge sooner than later.

"Youuu...YOUUUU...I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER BIG SUFFERINGS!" Steve snatched a Poké Ball from his belt and chucked it ahead. "SABLEYE, GRANT MY WISH!"

The Ball hit the ground hard enough to kick dirt into the air and leave a small pit. Energy lanced out and arced to the ground, materializing Sableye uncomfortably close to Raozya's feet and prompting the Zoroark to step back.

The little dark gremlin creature directed its gemstone eyes up at Raozya with all the innocence of a starving Feraligatr. It flicked its tongue around with disturbing menace, granting visual company to a nightmarish growl. This incited a laugh from its Trainer, which came out more as an abbreviated scream than a declaration of amusement. "BEHOLD, THE AWESOME POWER OF THE DARKNESS POKÉMON! TREMBLE!"

Although the Sableye was indeed unsettling, Raozya found Steve's flagrant madness to be much more jarring than this little squirt. In fact, he was pretty sure he had encountered and defeated more intimidating Pokémon over the past few days. "That's cute."

With an expression that was deliberately imbued with boredom, he gave his chosen Poké Ball a gentle toss. "Come meet your new chew toy, Screampuff."

A pop and a flash revealed his pick: a smiling, giggling Swirlix. Appearing to be a living wad of cotton candy, it bobbed and wobbled on two little feet that were barely visible amongst the copious fluff. Having been caught only a day prior, Raozya had quickly learned from Joas' sarcasm-laced suggestions that this creature had a type advantage against Dark-types. If Raozya had his way, he would be making short work of his opponent's little cave-dwelling abomination.

A maniacal laugh exploded from Steve's toothy mouth — unsurprising to Raozya. "A SWIRLIX?! TALK ABOUT CUTE! IS THIS A SICK JOKE OR WHAT?!"

Screampuff squeaked its species name and bounced a few times in gleeful anticipation of its upcoming battle. An untrained eye would falsely judge the small Pokémon as being one of negligible danger. Such eyes, however, belonged to fools.

"The only joke is your suicidal overconfidence, Samantha." Raozya made sure his corresponding smirk was as smug as possible. He wanted to see if Steve knew Self-Destruct. "Let's see if your Sableye can do more than impersonate hard rock musicians."

A rivulet of saliva traveled down the side of Joas' non-expressive mouth as he watched from the sidelines. He had attained a newfound admiration for Raozya due to the latter's merciless trolling of his dangerously unstable foe. As this was sure to become a battle to remember, Joas had begun recording the event with his smartphone shortly after the first shots had been fired. He knew that once it was all over, this cinematic gem would be getting a workout on his social networks.

Napalm, in the meantime, had closed his speech book and was now standing on his feet in preparation for Raozya's call, should the need arise. While he didn't have a type advantage or disadvantage against the Sableye, he was more than willing to give it the fight of its life.

Volcanoes of homicidal fury erupted in Steve's eyes. He gritted his teeth hard enough to be audible and bellowed an inhuman roar before pointing even more dramatically at his now-blood enemy. His broken voice indicated that Raozya had scored a Super-Effective hit on his ego. "SABLEYE! USE ZEN HEADBUTT!"

Sableye was showered with its Trainer's scream-propelled spittle a moment before it took off. It moved with frightening speed, charging across the battlefield with a profound blood lust. Steve's anger served as fuel for Sableye's anger — the intrinsic connection between Trainer and Pokémon facilitated this like an invisible data cable. Steve wanted victory, and Sableye wanted it even more.

This was no different than a carnival for Screampuff. The fluffy creature watched with cheerful expectancy as an embodiment of death sped toward it, as though Sableye was no more threatening than an incoming bumper car. Treating it as such, Screampuff casually hopped to the side at Raozya's behest and allowed Sableye to overshoot, unable to recover due to its tremendous speed. It was now on a collision course with a tree.

Raozya could have sworn he had just seen plumes of hot smoke explode from Steve's ears. Scowling bitterly, the manic child clenched his fists and pumped them down as though he was milking a giant cow. "USE THE TREE AS A RAMP AND LEAP BACK, THEN USE FURY SWIPES!"

Sableye had no complaint about the order. It raced up the side of the tree and leaped off the top portion of the trunk, soaring back overhead. With the Swirlix in its sight, it fanned its arms out and extended its claws, beginning its descent toward its target and grinning with sharp teeth.

Screampuff's doe eyes, as well as the phone of an excessively pleased Joas, tracked the ballistic enemy as it flew across the sky. Raozya's "Fairy Wind!" command reached Screampuff's ears mere moments before Sableye's claws could make impact.

The sound of what could have been compared to a roaring gale filled the air in an instant. Sableye's confidence disappeared when it found itself being buffeted by a tornado-force blast of pink and sweet. The odor...it had such a vile intensity to the dark creature's nostrils that its face contorted in fear and disgust.

Steve watched in horror as his Pokémon fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth and twitching sporadically. His face was equally as disturbed as his Sableye's. "A SUPER-EFFECTIVE CRITICAL?! IMPOSSIBRU!"

"It's far from impossible;" gloated the smiling Raozya, "this is what happens when you don't train your Pokémon prope—"

"SHUT UP!" The tearful Steve called Sableye back into its Poké Ball and plucked another from his belt. He held it in his palm and stared at it with a dark, insane grin. His mind had been broken. "THIS WILL BE THE DETERMINING FACTOR IN THIS BATTLE! YOU HAVE YET TO SEE MY TRUE POTENTIAL!"

Steve's constant tittering tempted Raozya to grab his stun gun. He had known that the kid was in dire need of therapy, but this was making him fear for his life. He decided to offer a consolation in a weak attempt to ease the situation, "Okay, sure. I'm...scared."

"BE VERY SCARED!" Steve chucked his next Ball in the same manner as the previous, but twice as hard. "IT IS TIME TO SHOW YOUR TRUE COLORS, SMEARGLE!"

Smeargle materialized at the bottom of the new impact crater. The white, beagle-like Pokémon peeked over the edge of the crater and stared with innocent wonder at Screampuff, inciting the latter to yip and bounce with joy.

Another dramatic, trembling finger was pointed squarely at Raozya. "SMEARGLE USE FLAMETHROWER NOWWWW!"

Flames of white-hot intensity exploded from Smeargle's mouth. Unable to react fast enough, Screampuff disappeared in the fiery onslaught. Its frantic shrieks told Raozya it was still present, but he wasn't sure how long that would last. Even from a distance of a dozen feet, the air near the jet of fire felt like a furnace.

When the attack had finished, Screampuff could have easily been mistaken for a lump of charcoal with two dinner plate-sized eyes. It coughed out a plume of smoke and uttered a weak yip.

Raozya's eyebrows had taken residence in his hairline. Wasn't Smeargle a Normal-type? How could it have known Flamethrower?

Napalm's wagging tail and clenched teeth and fists spoke silent volumes that he had been set on edge by the turn of events. A stellar fire burned within his body. He was itching to put Steve in his place and avenge his beleaguered comrade.

The Smeargle's capability of making an unexpected move was not news to Joas. He knew enough about these creatures to know that it used Sketch, which allowed it to permanently copy the last move used by its last opponent. He figured it had fought a Growlithe or some other Fire-type in a previous battle.

Raozya's brain wouldn't let him speak a command in time for Screampuff to avoid another Flamethrower assault. Acting on impulse, he held out the appropriate Poké Ball and called the roasted creature back; he couldn't have it being burnt to the point of needing long-term intensive medical care. The Swirlix dematerialized as an ashen streak of energy and entered its Ball, releasing a puff of smoke in the process.

More disturbing than Screampuff's crispy fate was Steve's explosive and slobbery reaction of amusement, which made Raozya jerk in surprise. "BWAHAHAHAHAA! YOU HAVE TASTED ONLY A SMALL PART OF MY VENGEANCE, AND THE FLAVOR WAS INDEED BITTER TO YOUR INFERIOR TONGUE. NOW SEND OUT YOUR NEXT PO-KAAAAY-MAWN FOR ME TO SLAUGHTER!"

A simple twitch of Raozya's eyelid heralded his decision. The battle needed to be stuffed into the grave of obscurity as soon as possible, right alongside Steve's ego trip.

Raozya plucked the next Poké Ball from his belt and gave it a gentle toss, his face showing no emotion. He didn't want to give Steve any visual clues as to his next strategy. This was going to be a blindside attack.

Going past the lack of expression in his opponent's features, Steve could see something within Raozya's eyes that reduced his sociopathic overconfidence ever so slightly. Could it be that he had provoked a monster? _NONSENSE. VICTORY WILL BE MINE._

The Poké Ball produced the standard discharge of energy, materializing an Eevee a few feet away from Steve's Smeargle. This was a comedy act in Steve's eyes, prompting a bout of laughter of such intensity that he was incapable of producing words.

Amid Steve's noisy expression of amusement, Raozya gazed down at his Eevee with a tinge of sadism in his face and voice. "Salvo, go give Smeargle a big ol' hug."

The fluffy creature vanished from Steve's line of sight, traveling at such speed that it could have been mistaken for teleportation. Alarms began to sound within Steve's tattered mess of a mind, but his incessant laughter prevented him from noticing them.

Salvo's position atop Smeargle's head was seen for only a millisecond before it was obscured by a blinding flash. Debris scattered like buckshot from the detonation, peppering the surrounding area with high-speed granules of dirt and shreds of grass.

Steve found himself on the ground moments later with a shell of soil occupying the surface of his astonished face.

The now-unconscious Salvo disappeared as a stream of energy that lanced back into his Ball, which itself was returned to Raozya's belt in short order. With a conceited grin that spelled every letter of victory, Raozya dusted himself off and made his approach to his defeated foe.

Having finally regained his bearings, Steve leaped up from the ground and pointed yet another dramatic finger at the incoming Raozya. "HOW?! EEVEE CANNOT KNOW SELF-DESTRUCT! IMPOSSIBRUUU!"

Raozya stopped five feet away from the jittering child. Steve's broken voice and screeched words served as a shining indicator that Raozya had annihilated his ego. Raozya wasn't sure how to make his expression any more smug than it already was. "I make possible the impossible! Let this be a lesson to you."

The rage present on Steve's face morphed into abject sadness. His soul had not merely been shattered; it had been plowed and sown with the seeds of devastation. He had no ego left; only regret.

Steve's Smeargle returned to the ground moments later, its trip to the stratosphere ending in the bottom of a new crater. Without even looking at it, he held out its Poké Ball and called it back. Through his tears, he mouthed something that was too low for Raozya to hear, but the latter figured it was some sort of expression of grief or disapproval. Or an otherworldly curse.

The mouthing slowly but surely began to produce sound, increasing in volume from a faint whisper to frantic scream-babbling. This was accompanied by a scowl that intensified at the same rate as the volume.

Raozya watched as Steve propelled himself in the opposite direction, scream-crying with such magnitude that Raozya was more than a little concerned he would go on some sort of rampage or join a gang. _Then again, if he joins Team Rocket, he'll be even less of a threat._

A tug on the pants drew Raozya's attention down to the ground on his left. Joas was staring up with those dead, unnerving eyes of his while holding up a small notepad. "Such a professional and unparagoned display of impishness is not something I happen upon often. May I have your autograph?"

The experience that Raozya had acquired during his travels with Joas gave a figurative swat to his hand before it could even move. Deep down, he knew the notepad was probably hiding a waiver or a contract for something that he would lament later on. With that in mind, he turned and made his way back to his tree. "Nice try."

Joas stood in place, tracking Raozya for a few seconds before following. "You know me too well. Have we really only known each other for a week?"

A _pop_ emanated from Raozya's neck as he gave it a quick twist. "The week that lasted a year."

"Sounds like a book. Perhaps you should abandon this hedonistic practice of Pokémon Training and become the next J.D. Salinger."

Raozya grimaced. "I'm a more hands-on kind of guy. Less writing; more physical action. It makes me cheerful."

Wreathed in purple energy filaments, Joas rose from the ground and floated alongside Raozya, having abandoned the idea of catching up to the latter's pace. "What about a filling station attendant?"

"Boring, plus I'd feel tempted to talk to everyone — maybe even make fun of their poor choice of vehicle design. Then I'd get fired, and then I'd be back to square one, and it would be all your fault. You're free to feel preemptive guilt."

Joas flatbrowed. "I was making a _Catcher in the Rye_ reference. You were supposed to take the cue and make a reference after I mentioned the filling station."

"Never heard that song before. I guess I'm not as well-traveled as you in the world of music."

If it hadn't been for the fact that Dark-type Pokémon such as Raozya were immune to Psychic attacks, Joas would have flung him to the Moon. _You're deaf, but certainly not mute_ _._ _Uncultured savage._

Raozya, on the other hand, knew Joas was probably referencing a book, but he wanted to score a few points in the game of impishness.


	2. Chapter 2

Raozya and Joas took a seat at Raozya's tree: Raozya on a large root and Joas on a branch overhead. Raozya figured he would rest for a bit before taking Screampuff to the nearest Poké Center infirmary. It was a shame he didn't have a Burn Heal to use.

Napalm plucked his book from the ground and made his way to the new social spot. Raozya noticed Napalm's approach and scooted over to make space on the root. This incited a smile on the Braixen, and he happily planted his posterior next to his Trainer.

The language book temporarily drew Raozya's eyes to it; he began staring into the distance a moment later. "It's such a nice day, Napalm. Why do days like this have to be ruined by dangerously unstable people? Isn't it tragic?"

"Yes."

That single word could have been a bullet entering Raozya's chest. Whose voice was that? Was there seriously another punk nearby? He frantically looked around to find the source, but all he could see was...Napalm. His facial expression carried his shock with comical intensity. "Did...you just speak?"

Napalm met Raozya's enlarged eyes and gave him a confident "Yes."

The shock was replaced with approval in the form of elevated eyebrows and nodding. "Well then, seems Joas wasn't kidding about that book."

"Yes."

Raozya turned his attention back to the blue expanse of the sky that he had previously been admiring. "At least the day is getting better. Just think of all the people we can impress and mingle with once you're fluent — preferably people unlike the ones we've been plagued with today."

Napalm stared in the same manner as his master, albeit unsure as to what was so special about a blue void. There weren't even any clouds with funny shapes to interpret. "Yes."

Raozya's mouth curled into a smile, something he knew he hadn't experienced enough of for that day. Sure, he had smiled out of sadism upon defeating his foes, but this was different. "What will you do with your newfound language powers? Impress a cultured lady Braixen in a window? Will you seek a career on Broadway?"

"Yes."

It was at that point when Raozya noticed something...odd. Either Napalm was a natural yes-'mon, or that was literally the only word he could speak. "What's your favorite musician?"

"Yes."

Raozya's palm collided with his forehead. At least he could understand the Braixen's natural vocalizations since they were both Pokémon. If it hadn't been for that fact, this situation would have been even more frustrating.

Aggravation escaped Raozya's lips in the form of a silent sigh as he attempted to relax himself. "One word is a start. You won't be impressing anyone, except maybe the people in Pallet Town. If Ash is anything to go by, those people would be impressed by...by, uh..."

The Zoroark's words trailed off in contrast with his widening eyes. Heavy breathing wasn't something he considered relaxing, especially when it was being puffed in and out right next to his ear.

Turning his head seemed like an impossible option at first. The stench of the culprit's breath, amplified by what had probably been weeks of neglected hygiene, foretold the face of a hungry predator that regularly bathed in its victims' blood.

The source of the stench spoke with a deep, masculine voice, "Hey."

Raozya's muscles reacted before his brain could. His resultant leap brought his head into contact with the branch above much harder than he would have thought possible for his leg strength. The kinetic energy traveled through the branch and into the relaxing Joas, sending the latter airborne and into another branch above him. The Espurr ricocheted back down and into the branch he had been sitting on, which then bounced him back up and instigated a ping-pong effect that lasted several agonizing seconds. Each collision brought him further away from the center of the tree until the final ricochet, which was with the upper branch, spiked him like a volleyball into the ground below.

Napalm was nowhere to be seen, having taken residence in a different tree nearby. His fur was puffed-up to the point of making him resemble an oversized plush toy that had been left in the dryer too long.

Raozya had already come to rest on his root perch before Joas' status as the resident of a new crater had been established. Both of them were without knowledge of what had heralded this humiliating event, but they did know one thing for certain: their craving for vengeance would soon be sated.

The source of their humiliation rounded the tree, presenting his muscled bulk in full view. The man sported no shirt, leaving his hulking arms and corpulent gut exposed to the elements. His hairline was receding on the sides but not the center, giving the impression that he had a widow's peak roughly the size of Mt. Coronet. It was as though his forehead was a giant arrow that was constantly directing attention to his face, which itself was a sight to behold with its bushy eyebrows, oversized mustache/mutton chops combo, and toothy grin. There was a confident sparkle in his eyes, bordering on murderous insanity.

Those predatory eyes locked onto the barely-conscious Raozya, and they intensified to complement the sheer volume of the man's gruff voice. "I saw that battle of yours just now! You really put that little brat in his place!"

Raozya wondered if there was any logical answer in the universe that could explain the unusually high quantity of crazy people he had encountered that day.

The man leaned forward and extended his hand. "The name's Chuck, by the way!"

The temptation to drop the disguise and unleash a devastating Dark Pulse attack had never been stronger for Raozya. His uneasiness was not helped by Chuck's tattered pants and lack of shoes, and what should have logically been a belt had instead been replaced by a gigantic sash tied like a bow.

Despite these factors, Raozya accepted Chuck's massive hand and allowed the man to peel him from the root that he had been partially imbedded into. He only hoped Joas would be as forgiving. "Thanks, yeah. Hi there, Chuck. I'm Raozya."

Chuck slipped an arm over the shoulders of the now-panicking Raozya and pulled him close. Raozya would have preferred the smell of an open sewer as opposed to the gagging stench of the man's exposed armpit.

"Raozya, you have skills — massive skills worthy of a Gym Leader!"

The ground trembled beneath them, and it wasn't from Raozya's plummeting faith in humanity. He turned his head to what he figured had been the source, and sure enough, he could see a ball of blinding purple energy rising from the little crater Joas had made. What appeared to be a psychic attack in progress was merely an angry, levitating Joas dispelling an overburden of psychic energy that had manifested from a nasty bout of rage.

Without a doubt, the Espurr wanted to express the depths of his displeasure by creating a brand new planetary ring made from Chuck's ashes. However, he knew such an attack would leave him exhausted and unprepared for combat, lasting perhaps a week or so. That wasn't a risk he was willing to take merely for the sake of petty vengeance.

Raozya puffed out a sigh of relief after Joas powered-down and made a soft landing on the grass below. The Zoroark turned his attention back to Chuck, who hadn't even noticed the tremor, and tried to keep the penetrating fear out of his voice. "Thanks. I do see myself as something of a prospective champion."

"Which is why I'd like to offer you the position of co-founder of a new Gym I'm wanting to open in the near future!"

Any glimmer of hope that Raozya had felt concerning a normal conversation was now gone. Now he was expecting Chuck to ask for his credit card number next. "You don't say?"

"I do say! See, I was once the Leader of the Cianwood City Gym. Thanks to—"

"Hold on a second." Raozya slipped out from underneath Chuck's massive, soggy arm. He hoped only one bath would be needed to cleanse himself. "A founding position? Former Gym Leader? Is 'Raozya's credit card number' next on the list?"

The look of concern that was now on Chuck's face was such that Raozya wondered if he had just insulted the guy's pride on every imaginable level.

"N-no! I'm just...see, I had a wife back when I was a Gym Leader at Cianwood. A few weeks ago, I got into an argument with a Pokémon Trainer who was associated with the local Mafia. The next day, some of his buddies came by and kidnapped my wife, then burned down my Gym." He wiped some invisible tears from his cheek. "I tried to go to the police, but they laughed at me! I think those guys are in on it! Now my goal is to build a new Gym and train like never before so I can defeat those Mafia thugs and get my wife back!"

Chuck struck a confident pose worthy of a kung fu movie star, but Raozya was already in the process of walking away with Napalm and Joas. "Yeah, that's the most believable story I've ever heard. Go build your Gym. I'll have defeated the Elite Four by the time you're done."

Raozya almost tumbled forward after a desperate Chuck threw himself onto the ground and clung to the former's leg. "Wait! Please do this! I need all the help I can get!"

Dark Pulse was sounding like a better option with each passing second — he would have used the more explosive Night Daze if he had known it. Raozya knew, however, that his disguise was more valuable than an act of wanton violence. The Zoroark instead glared innumerable daggers of hatred down at the whining human. He also made sure his illusory abilities kept Chuck from feeling the long red mane that his face was making contact with as a result of his leg cling. "If you pull off my pants, I pull off your head."

Chuck's enormous, tear-filled doe eyes emphasized his desperation in unison with his squeaking, broken voice. "PLEEEEASE! I have no one else to turn toooooo! We could be double Leaders! I'll even install an _ice cream_ machine!"

Raozya wanted to punch this pathetic lunatic across the sky. In an unexpected turn of events, his thoughts were made manifest when an enormous soil fist erupted from the ground beneath Chuck and launched his screaming bulk into the horizon.

The hand made a sarcastic waving gesture before receding back into the ground. Out of curious expectation, Raozya turned his head to Joas.

Filaments of purple plasma arced between the ground and Joas' fist as the Espurr straightened himself up from a kneeling position. The deadness of his expression met up with the astonishment of Raozya's. "I expect pickles for this."

Raozya could find nothing disagreeable with Joas' statement, not that he could argue about it anyway. He didn't possess the proper equipment or training for a spacewalk. "You will receive no more than three pickles."

"I am pleased with this agreement."

• • •

After having Screampuff's injuries treated at a nearby Poké Center, Raozya led his companions into a different field that was adjacent to the previous one, separated by a narrow grove of trees. This was done under the justification that the previous location had been contaminated with societal impurity. Joas was silently convinced that Raozya had somehow instigated a paranormal event that was drawing the region's maniacs to him like a bug zapper.

The trio came upon a flat area with short grass and a few boulders strewn about. There were very few other Trainers within sight, granting an atmosphere of peace that restored Raozya's hopes that the day wasn't going to be sullied further.

The peace, however, was belied by an ominous sensation. It was initially faint enough that Raozya brushed it off as residual stress, but Joas knew better than that. So did Napalm, whose nose was already held high and puffing for additional scents.

Joas' eyes widened a bit more than usual. There it was — the source was near, but unseen. It was like a pulsing knot of insanity. It was madness incarnate, given flesh by unknown eldritch forces from beyond the beyond. The air _stank_ of it.

Throughout Joas' travels in life, he had experienced the thrill of plunging his enemies into alternate dimensions full of Lovecraftian horrors. He had engaged the Void itself in a staring match. He had even enjoyed a spot of tea with Cthulhu. Whatever this was, it was not like anything he had ever encountered. It was a physical manifestation of pure... _otherness_ , to the extent of making his skin crawl.

It wasn't as though Raozya was incapable of detecting such an unsettling otherness; he was simply tuning it out due to his unwillingness to cede anymore of his day to slobbering idiots. The boulder he was now climbing was far more interesting in any case, and the delightful cross-breeze that was waiting for him at the top would only deaden his senses further.

Joas figured Raozya was playing ignorant. It was time to fix that. "Incoming."

Raozya lost his footing due to a panicked jolt that had become an instinctive response to hearing Joas utter that word. He didn't even have a pickle to defend from the usual hungry attacker. All he had now was a face covered in turf and humiliation.

All he had to do was a quick Dark Pulse attack and he could have his peace again. He didn't even care that his disguise would probably be blown or that some of the boulders would be tossed into the nearby Camphrier Town. Everyone needed to die. Then there would be peace.

In the midst of the choking insanity in the air, Joas could sense an almost equal amount of murderous rage being emanated by Raozya. He was both entertained and impressed by Raozya's surprising capacity for anger. This was a day to remember.

"Goodness, are you okay?"

Raozya gave a pained turn of his neck to see a hand reaching down. Turning his eyes further up revealed one of the last people he would have expected to see. "Bill?"

A whimsical smile sat on the face of the young man. White-haired despite his youth, Bill was what society commonly designated as a "pretty boy": lithe, pointy chin, well-dressed, perpetual smile. All he was missing was a rose in his mouth.

Bill's smile stretched ever so slightly. "Looks like you need some help there, Rozz."

Raozya smirked at the old nickname. It was based on his first name, Rozza, something he divulged to only a few people.

He grabbed his former coworker's hand and hauled himself up from the dirt, feeling the anger drifting away. "Long time no see."

"Oh, indeed. Much too long."

A feather duster attacked Raozya's face before he could give a response. Bill swept the dirt from his old friend's face with a gentle haste that was more than unexpected. Once again, Raozya employed his illusory skills to trick Bill into believing he was sweeping a real human face instead of what was essentially a hologram.

"All done!" Bill returned his duster to his shoulder bag. "No need for dirt to be where it doesn't need to be."

Raozya chose to focus more on the charity aspect of the situation, rather than the awkward. It would keep his sanity in check much longer. He replaced his urge to recoil with a smile. "Thank you. It's been one of those days—"

"—The kind of day that makes you want to cuddle a furry object until it begins to struggle?"

 _Never mind_ , droned Raozya's inner voice. The situation was now firmly within the realm of awkward. The creepy aura that Bill's otherwise cheerful presence was now emanating wasn't helping in the least. "S-something like that."

The memories slowly crept back from the shadowed rear lockers of Raozya's mind. Bill had been his coworker at the sporting goods store until the place had gone up in flames. They had never spent much time together; only a few minutes of chatting every few breaks. At the time, Raozya had thought of Bill as rather weird, although...

There it was. _That_ memory — the day when Raozya had walked in on Bill licking the face of a plush toy in his breakroom locker. Raozya had stopped and done an about-face to the bathroom, hoping Bill hadn't noticed his witnessing of the jarring event.

Perhaps Raozya had pushed the memory into the depths of his subconscious because that had been a particularly stressful day. _Like this one._

Whatever the case, the memories were back, along with the firm knowledge that Bill was a monumental freak.

Raozya's realization had a tangible effect on Joas. Along with a tingling sensation, the Espurr thought he had heard something snap, such as a discharge of angry bio-energy or an exploding brain cell. Both would be unsurprising considering the day's events.

Equally unsurprising was Raozya's affiliation with such a colorful individual. Six days of adventuring and everything was beginning to go down the toilet. At this rate, they would be setting up a noodle shop in the Reverse World before the end of the month. _I wonder what_ _kind_ _of_ _ramen_ _Giratina would prefer._

Bill clasped his hands. "Then let's have a battle, shall we?"

The offer sailed past Raozya's ears like a warning shot. Should he escape what could very well be a No-Fly Zone, or should he bring out the cannons? _Eh, might as well._

Raozya nodded. "Sure, for old time's sake."

A Poké Ball was gently plucked from Bill's belt. His pleasant expression took on a hint of darkness, sending a chill through Raozya. "Goodness, this is going to be delightful."

Bill took his battle position roughly thirty feet away and tossed the Ball. "Come out, my little treasure."

The Ball popped open in the usual energetic fashion, but with stars and glitter that were more commonly seen in Pokémon Contests. Raozya's opinion of Bill plummeted further.

A simple "Merf" was uttered by the newly-materialized Sylveon. Judging by its lackluster call and unamused expression, a degree in psychology wasn't necessary for Raozya to determine it probably wasn't in the best of care.

While Raozya, as a Pokémon himself, could understand the vocalizations of other Pokémon, the noise the Sylveon had made wasn't something he could translate into words. It was just an unintelligible grumble.

There was a visual air of pride in Bill's eyes. "My Sylveon is my most precious possession. His name is Muffin. We do everything together, and he has been properly EV trained as well."

Effort Value training, or EV training, was a form of training that honed specific aspects of a Pokémon, such as Speed, Attack, Defense, and others, in relation to a Pokémon's Nature, Moves, and physical strengths and weaknesses. It was commonly employed by professional Trainers for the sake of competition.

The EV statement made Raozya twitch. _EV training?_ _Is Bill even capable of that?_ _That might make things more difficult._

After placing his backpack on the ground, Raozya called Napalm's name and waved him over, which he obliged with glee. "Neat. This is my Braixen, Napalm. We—"

Raozya was cut off by the sound of an activating Poké Ball. The resulting mass of energy appeared in front of him and took the shape of his Honedge, Cutstab.

The haunted sword bobbed around in the air with excitement and engaged in the usual Poké-babble that consisted of the syllables of its species name. Raozya interpreted these otherwise incomprehensible noises as disturbingly cheerful statements relating to stabbing.

Raozya wasted no time in calling Cutstab back into its Ball, his face stern and exasperated. "You will stab again one day, but today is not that day."

Raozya's humiliation was worsened by Bill's gentle laughter. "Your Honedge is sweet..." — His expression darkened — "...but I don't understand what you see in something that lacks the soft, furry cuteness of your other Pokémon. I'm disappointed."

The battle horns were sounding in Raozya's head. It was time to apply the same treatment to Bill that Raozya had applied to all the previous Trainers: a defeat so profound that it would make him reevaluate his life.

Bill stopped Raozya's impending retort. "I see the fire in your eyes. That's good. I know I can always expect a satisfying battle when I see those flames in the eyes of my opponent. It makes me feel all fuzzy inside...as though Muffin is swimming around inside of me."

Muffin uttered another soulless "Merf" as he was lifted from the ground by his master. Bill rolled Muffin onto his back and cradled him like a baby, rocking him gently.

Raozya's blood had already chilled to an icy slurry, but it solidified to polar temperatures upon witnessing Bill pressing his face into Muffin's belly and inhaling. The latter's expression was one of apathy, but the tear that ran down its cheek spoke volumes in the opposite spectrum.

Joas' left arm spasmed momentarily from the pulse of eldritch energy that had just been emitted from Bill's actions. If he hadn't known any better, he would have claimed that Bill had been possessed by Cthulhu himself. As this was likely going to be an interesting battle to say the least, he readied his smartphone's camera. Bursts of static flickered sporadically on the phone's screen, an unsurprising effect of the transpiring events.

The blissful expression that now painted Bill's face would have been better suited as a reaction to a strong upper drug. "You do not understand the sweet pleasures of nuzzling a belly. I feel so energized after doing it, yet I receive a _calm mind_ as well. You know, if you did that with your Braixen, then—"

"Flame Charge."

A brilliant streak of fire broke Bill's sentence in half, as well as the embrace of him and Muffin. The two separated in opposite directions, allowing Napalm to pass between them without effect.

The insidious crook in Raozya's smile took away the final shreds of civility from the fight. "Sorry, my tongue slipped. You weren't ready yet?"

Psychotic desire exuded from Bill's return smile, murdering Raozya's assumed element of surprise. "Hyper Voice, my fragrant friend."

Napalm was still recovering from the movement of his Flame Charge when Muffin appeared mere inches away from his face. The subsequent sound that erupted from Muffin's mouth sent daggers of pain into the ears of all those present, with the apparent exception of Bill as made evident by his unchanged slasher face. Everything was soon masked by a cloud of dust.

Raozya tried to ignore the obnoxious whistling in his beleaguered ears as he scanned the obscured battlefield for his buddy. If Napalm was calling him, he wouldn't be able to hear it. _Not only did that savage anticipate my attack, he used a sensory assault. Gotta up my game...if Napalm's still alive, anyway._

After a few seconds, the dust settled just enough to grant Raozya his answer. A trail of yellow fur led up to a pink blob of flesh lodged in the side of a large tree. Napalm's fur had been stripped from his body, leaving only a hairless mass of humiliation stuck upside-down in the tree's bark. Raozya was sure he would have been hearing a pitiful whimpering noise had he not been rendered deaf.

The poor bald Braixen slowly peeled away from the tree and flopped to the ground, motionless and with featureless white ovals for eyes.

Joas wiped another trail of drool from his mouth. It was all cinematic gold, worthy of millions of views on the PokéVision video website. His mind raced with ideas of what to name the video, but he would make sure to name it something that would provide maximum shame for the Zoroark.

"You see," Bill explained, "Calm Mind amplifies the Special Attack and Special Defense stats. You thought you had the element of surprise, but I have enough experience to know what happens when I lose myself in a monologue: People tend to take advantage of me. You must have heard me give that command while I was enjoying Muffin's soft underbelly."

The last portion of Bill's final sentence was spoken in a smooth, sultry manner, more befitting of a romance scene than anything remotely pure.

Raozya had made his way to Napalm during Bill's talking. Ignoring Bill's madness, he knelt and unzipped his backpack, excavated an item and stuffed it into Napalm's mouth. The Braixen's eyes regained their pupils at the same time his fur sprouted back from its follicles. He hopped to his feet and shot a confident grin and nod at his master.

Raozya straightened up and placed his hand on Napalm's shoulder. "I think we learned our lesson. Let's get back in there."

Napalm nodded vigorously. "Yes!"

"Goodness, it seems you had a Revive in that bag of yours. How sneaky and cheeky!" Bill said this before glancing down at the emotionless Muffin, who was now by his side. "But that only grants half of the user's health, doesn't it? This will be an easy fight."

Raozya and Napalm took their position at the proper distance from their opponents, readying themselves for the next round. Hyper Voice with Calm Mind was something to be critically aware of, so a new strategy was needed. "How did you know I used a standard Revive?"

Bill turned his eyes back to his rival, accompanied by a visual lust for blood. "Because nobody uses the much rarer Max Revive for a simple battle like this. I'll have to give your Braixen an extra special cuddle when I'm done with him."

"Flame Charge."

Once again, Napalm arrowed ahead toward the Sylveon. As expected, Muffin dodged, but not before Raozya called out a Fire Spin. In a mirror of the previous scuffle, Napalm was right next to Muffin when Raozya executed the command. The Braixen summoned a tornado of fire around Muffin, obscuring the hapless Sylveon in superheated justice.

Raozya's victorious laughter was cut short when one of Muffin's tendrils whipped out from the fire and wrapped around Napalm's neck. Muffin flung his opponent into the ground several forceful times before launching him into the sky.

The pure delight that radiated from Bill's presence turned Raozya's mood sour. That white-haired monstrosity knew what he was doing and had no problem expressing it, "I can feel victory on my tongue! Wonderful, Muffin!"

Raozya's face contorted in disgust. This needed to stop soon. "Fire Spin again, then Flame Charge!

Happily acting on the order, Napalm again engulfed Muffin in a column of fire, then became a flaming cannonball and blasted off in the direction of his opponent. The collision generated a clap of thunder and slammed Muffin into the ground. Due to the sheer force, he ricocheted out of the new crater and launched past a nearby tree, which he used as an anchor for one of his tendrils. The Sylveon did a slingshot around the tree and flung himself back toward Napalm, who was in the air from the rebound.

Napalm felt the impact before he realized what was happening. When his brain finally registered this, he had already come to a stop...somewhere. A quick observation brought to his attention the horrifying reality that he was now being cradled in Bill's arms.

"Goodness, are you all right? You were disoriented and landed right in my arms. I think I'll have to cuddle you to take the last bit of shock away."

A parade of sirens and red flags marched through Raozya's head. He needed to think of something fast before Bill's insanity infected Napalm beyond recovery.

The words couldn't leave his mouth in time. Bill pressed the stunned Napalm against his chest, the former running his tongue across the latter's forehead in the process.

Raozya could have sworn he had just seen Bill's eyes go big and cutesy, not unlike an anime character. His words were now locked inside of his mouth, not that they would have been able to express the depths of his horror anyway. All he could do while waiting for his brain to function was to watch and hope against all logic that Bill's Lick attack didn't cause paralysis.

Muscle memory kicked in before his brain. Before he knew it, he was aiming his Domination stun gun at the pasty maniac. The gun's holographic heads-up display projected onto his eyes and attempted to give a readout on the guy's Criminal Coefficient, a number quantifying how dangerous a target was. If it was over 100, the stun setting would activate. If it was over 300, Bill would be reduced to a red mist.

The readout lagged and sputtered a few moments before displaying an error message: "ERROR 404, Coefficient Not Found. Please reset the device and try again. If the problem persists, please contact the manufacturer."

Nothing more could be done, and Raozya's brain still could not issue a command. He held out Napalm's Poké Ball and called him back, retrieving him in a stream of energy. It was now his goal to jailbreak his Domination so it would function without restrictions. It was probably illegal, but he really didn't give a fart at that point.

Visibly disappointed, Bill called Muffin back into his Poké Ball. "Oh, that's too bad, but it seems I won the battle...and what a battle it was! Perhaps we could do this again sometime? Oh...where are you going?"

Raozya was already walking away, having slipped his backpack on without a word. His only response was a friendly wave.

Not one to be left behind, Joas floated over to Raozya and lowered himself into the backpack, zipping it shut so he didn't have to look at Bill any longer. Despite the circumstances, he was excessively pleased with the footage he had captured.


	3. Chapter 3

Roughly half an hour passed before Raozya could utter more than a few words. The temporary mental impediment had still allowed him to order a meal for him and Joas at the Red Corphish seafood restaurant that sat on the outskirts of Camphrier Town, but it was preventing him from properly divulging his thoughts to his small feline companion.

"I should be surprised that you know a character as colorful as Bill, but then I realized that you are indeed the one and only Rozza Reyo Raozya, and thus there are no more questions regarding that connection. I am curious, however, as to the origins of your relationship with him."

The shifting ice cubes in Raozya's drink had a stronger grip on his attention than Joas' words, but he still heard everything. "Billiard Jonesmith. That's his full name. Old colleague from a place I worked at a few years ago. The craziest of the crazy. So crazy that I had suppressed my memories of him except for the good times we shared."

Joas plucked a fried Octillery ring from the appetizer tray in the center of the table and popped it into his mouth. "Never before have I felt such unsettling insanity in the air. It was practically tangible. You hit the jackpot."

Chuck took a hearty gulp of his sweet tea and set the large glass down on the table with a hard _thud_. He had seated himself next to Raozya mere minutes after the latter had arrived at the restaurant. No comments had been made about this due to exhaustion. Since Joas was certain of Chuck's insanity and ignorance, he didn't bother hiding the fact that he could talk.

"That was EASILY the most intense battle I have ever witnessed. What even WAS that guy?" exclaimed Chuck. He crammed three complimentary cheese muffins into his mouth and washed them down with more tea.

Raozya unceremoniously scarfed a cheese muffin, ignoring the man's complete lack of table manners. "Now if we could just figure out how to harness that insanity as a form of usable power, we'd be energy magnates."

"I could try to absorb his life force, although the victim seldom survives the process. I'm also concerned that I'd be corrupted by it."

 _Insinuating_ _that_ _you can be corrupted further_. Raozya took a sip of his root beer. "If other crazy people could be compared to cups of soda, Bill would be an ocean of Apricorn syrup. I'm concerned it might make you fat and sick. You might even explode."

Chuck exploded into laughter of such magnitude that half the restaurant turned their heads. "I know, right?!"

Joas munched another Octillery ring, slowly becoming more irritated. "Speaking of critical failures, I noticed that you pointed your Domination at Bill for a few moments and then lowered it. It was as though your courage was thrown out the door and replaced by the color yellow."

The suggestion of cowardice almost stung Raozya. Almost. "It glitched out. His insanity couldn't be quantified, so the trigger stayed locked."

"I see." Joas turned his attention to the table in a worried stare, although it was visually indiscernible from his usual soulless expression. "Yes, absorbing his life force would be a poor decision. Pity about the Domination. Might I suggest a simple pistol?"

"Believe me, it has crossed my mind."

"You know..." — Chuck put his arm over Raozya's shoulders — "...I could coach you on how to defeat a Trainer of his fortitude. I battled THOUSANDS of Trainers in my day, and I was able to give each one a run for their money."

 _R_ _esist the urge to kill..._ "You've defeated humanoid abominations like him?"

"Totally! Well, there was one exception. Some clueless kid with a feeble Pikachu and a demonic Bayleef did manage to defeat me. The vibes I was getting off of him made me doubt he was actually human. Maybe he was one of those shapeshifting Pokémon or something."

The look on Chuck's face was no longer cheerful, but vacant like a traumatized war veteran. Raozya and Joas were both beginning to feel concern.

Chuck continued after snapping back to his senses, "A-Anyway, I have a ton of experience! After we get done stuffing ourselves silly, let's go train! How about it?"

Raozya mumbled his passionless approval. What else did he have to lose? He was fresh out of dignity, that was for sure.

"Ha ha! That's more like it! Oooh, here comes the meal! We'll build up our strength here before building it out there!"

True to his word, the waitress returned with their meals a few moments later. She set the plates down and bid the three a happy feasting. No words were spoken for the duration of the meal. Raozya's head was buzzing with plans for his desired modifications to the Domination, and Joas was quietly glancing at his phone in between bites, watching the view count on his PokéVision video skyrocket.

• • •

Happy and full of lunch, the trio soon relocated themselves to another field after visiting a local Poké Center to heal Napalm. There were more Trainers than the previous field (henceforth known as Pestilence Meadow), but they figured it would be easier for them to hide amongst the other faces. Raozya had considered changing his appearance and ditching Chuck in the process, but he didn't think Bill was enough of a threat to warrant such a thing...yet.

Raozya's backpack wiggled and squirmed before Joas poked his head from the top. Although he was still convinced that Chuck was too ignorant to process the concept or importance of a talking Espurr, for the sake of privacy he decided to direct his speech into Raozya's ears via psychic manipulation. "You know that thing you didn't do?"

 _Goody, another lecture_ , groaned Raozya in his mind. He replied with low volume, "Should I care enough to remember?"

"You know that Poké Ball you promised me back at Tierno's?"

That name made Raozya wince. "I promised nothing; or if I did, I don't remember. There was too much sugar and hydrogenated fat gumming-up the cogs in my brain due to his snacks."

"I didn't think you had heard me. Anyway, I need my own Ball for security reasons, such as preventing me from being captured by a psycho or being crushed by your sweaty mass when you fall backwards. If you're not going to do it, I'll use one of the ones in your backpack."

Raozya shrugged. "Go ahead."

The distinctive noise of an activating Poké Ball emanated from Raozya's backpack, followed by a noticeable reduction in the backpack's volume. He could feel the Ball squirming around for a few seconds before the _pling_ of a successful capture reached his ears.

It didn't matter to him. Joas should have said something earlier instead of waiting a whopping two days...

 _WAIT A SECOND_. Raozya hastily slipped off his backpack, startling Chuck, and fished around for a Poké Ball that was full-sized instead of in its compact state. Finding it, he plucked it out and hoped it wasn't what he feared.

He flattened his brows. "Joas...Joas, why did you pick the expensive Ultra Ball?"

There was no response.

"Joas, I was saving that."

Still nothing.

Chuck scratched at a balding area on his head. "Uhh...something wrong?"

Raozya sighed and held the Ball out at arm's length. "Come out."

Triggered by his command, the Ball spat out a stream of energy that materialized as the appropriate Espurr.

Joas was frozen still with a look of panic on his face. This surprised Raozya more than the simple fact that Joas just displayed emotion. "You okay?"

"How in the high-holy ego of Snivy do the others casually exit these things of their own accord?"

Raozya placed the Ball back into his backpack and slipped the latter back on. "It comes naturally to some. For others, it takes practice. Also, how do you justify picking my only Ultra Ball?"

Joas directed his eyes up to Raozya and feigned the most adorable expression he could muster. "Because I am your most valuable team member and you love me more than life itself. I get choked-up just thinking about it."

The only thing Joas succeeded in doing was producing an outright disturbing slasher smile.

A particularly strong wave of ice cascaded down the length of Raozya's body. "Yes, just like swallowing a gold knife."

Although he tried, Raozya failed to completely mask his horror, prompting the perceptive Joas to return to his emotionless default face and deliver a comeback, "At least you won't die poor."

Raozya proceeded ahead with a bit of edge in his step and expression. Knowing Joas, that conversation was going to go places he didn't want to tread. "Off to train, now. No more death speak."

Joas followed along on a cushion of purple energy. "Ksh, wuss."

"YOU THERE! It's battle time!"

The voice had come from the left of Raozya, maybe twenty feet away. The sound of those words carried the comfort of a descending guillotine.

Raozya forced his head to turn and face the source. The temptation to level his Domination at the guy's forehead was strong, but maybe this one wasn't insane. Maybe...this one was different.

All Raozya could do was utter an inquisitive "Huw?"

The face of the person hailing him was a mystery, shrouded by a white mask with gold markings in a starburst pattern. A white robe with gold edges flowed in the breeze, conforming to what was presumably a male body, judging by stature and form.

The person pointed a dramatic finger at Raozya. "You look like a strong candidate for battle, so I wish to have a battle with you! Let's see what you can do!"

Chuck approached from behind and placed a hand on Raozya's shoulder. "This is it, Raozya. We can start with this guy. Judging by his appearance, he's a dyed-in-the-wool freak. Just listen to me and you'll be fine."

Raozya considered the offer and Chuck's suggestion for a few moments. The masked man did seem rather eccentric, but benign otherwise — probably not as much of a freak as Chuck had predicted. He prepared ask Joas for an opinion, but his invisible fur stood on end when he noticed the Espurr peeking over his other shoulder.

Joas' wide, lifeless eyes examined the challenger, absorbing every detail they could. In league with his eldritch senses, he attempted to pass proper judgment. "There is something unsettling about this one, but not as much as the others. Maybe you could hazard a battle so I can gauge him better and see if he deserves to be the first explorer of Mars."

Raozya uttered a cautious "Ah" to Joas and nodded to Chuck before responding to the masked man, "Sure, let's do this!"

The masked man snapped a confident nod and plucked a Poké Ball from his belt. He performed several poses for dramatic effect, not unlike interpretive dance, before tossing the Ball. "Time to shine!"

Chuck lumbered over to a more appropriate position behind Raozya. The latter grabbed a Poké Ball as well, calling out Napalm. "Come out and meet your new chew toy."

The Poké Balls activated in unison: a Braixen for Raozya, and a Sylveon for the masked man.

The air surrounding Joas chilled noticeably. The aura of this Sylveon was familiar, and its initial cry of "merf" confirmed his fears. "This one is a lot like..."

"...Bill's Sylveon, Muffin. I know," Raozya finished. He looked back at Chuck. "Good eye."

Chuck grimaced, having felt the burst of insanity from Muffin. "Oh, I didn't expect something of this magnitude."

Napalm's widened eyes and hanging jaw possessed no shortage of panic, and his tail was puffed up to twice its normal diameter. "BraaaiiiixennnnNNNN BRAI! _**YES!**_ "

Of course, Raozya's ears translated this as "HooollllyyyyYYYY CRAP! _**NO!**_ "

The masked man jumped with joy. "Now then, let's battle!"

"Not so fast," called Raozya. "Take off your mask. I know it's you, Bill."

Raozya's statement shocked the masked man, made evident by his sudden lack of physical expression. "What? Who is—"

"It would have been better for you to use a different Pokémon. That's Muffin. Hello, Muffin."

The Sylveon directed a dull stare at Raozya and weakly waved one of its ribbon-tendrils in greeting. "Merf."

With his facade defeated, Bill slipped the mask off. "Goodness, you're much more intuitive than I had imagined."

The hair on Chuck's face stood on end. His eyes were now the size of dinner plates. "He will require...more than twenty-four hours of training for this."

Bill's toes curled in shame upon his witnessing of the sheer brutality of Raozya's glare. The condescending aura was intense enough to give Joas a bad taste in his mouth and cause Muffin's eyes to widen and his pupils to shrink. Chuck stumbled backward.

Raozya held out Napalm's Poké Ball. "Napalm, retur—"

"WAIT!" exclaimed Bill in a frantic tone. "I apologize for my previous actions. I promise that I will not lick your lovely Napalm."

Raozya's glare narrowed further. "Rather specific."

"It just felt like our last battle wasn't finished properly."

"Yes, because Napalm isn't a popsicle."

Bill knelt down on one knee. His face showed remorse, but there was an unsettling underlying insanity to it. "I sincerely apologize for that. It won't happen again."

Raozya didn't believe a word of it. He figured Bill's tongue was armed and ready. Despite this, Raozya decided to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. "I sincerely doubt that, but I also think FLAME CHARGE NOW."

Like a burning meteor, Napalm shot forward in an instant. Having once again anticipated this, Bill called out a dodge command a moment after Raozya's command, followed by Hyper Voice.

Muffin got Napalm in his sights and opened his mouth to unleash a deafening maelstrom of noise. By the time Hyper Voice reached Napalm's position, the Braixen was already high in the air, having heeded a dodge command from his master.

At Raozya's prompt, Napalm summoned a vortex of fire and sent it around Muffin. Due to Napalm's improved desire for victory, the Fire Spin attack had even more power than usual.

With Muffin distracted, Raozya issued a Psybeam attack. Napalm pulled the signature Braixen stick from his tail and aimed it at his toasty adversary. A beam of purple energy exploded from the tip, assailing the already beleaguered Sylveon.

As it was with the previous battle, Muffin's tendrils launched through the flames and wrapped themselves around Napalm. Muffin himself was not far behind, and the savagery on his face was both uncharacteristic and disturbing.

This only made Raozya smile further. "Flame charge with a twist!"

With little warning, Muffin found himself staring at a spinning mass of Braixen and fire. His tendrils became entangled in the twisting action, and he didn't have time to react before he became airborne with a painful knot on his forehead.

An elevated eyebrow indicated Bill's surprise. _It seems Rozz is serious this time. Perhaps I should get serious, too._

A smoking Muffin tumbled to a spot near Bill's feet. The look on its face was one of genuine surprise, but that was mixed with an escalating measure of rage.

Raozya's expression had never been more smug. Victory was close, he could tell. His confidence was soaring high in the sky, but it would quickly be shot down by what he was about to witness.

Chuck was now on his backside in the grass, dozens of feet away. Raozya had been so glum earlier...how had he recovered so well? "Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from this Raozya."

Bill's shirt fluttered away in the breeze, revealing a pasty, somewhat underfed abdomen. He proceeded to squirt lotion on his chest and rubbed it all over with disturbing passion. "I put the lotion on my skin so we can get ahead again! Hear me, my dear Muffin! Let my silky smooth lotion bring you peace and confidence!"

The Domination was already being pointed at Bill before Raozya even knew it. As expected, the gun's internal computer sputtered and threw out an error message. Again, the gun found its place in Raozya's backpack. Modifications were now close to the top of Raozya's to-do list.

Adding to the stress, there was now an escalating sense of dread creeping up Raozya's spine. Wreathed in purple energy, Joas floated up behind Raozya to get a better look at the battle. "Zoroark. This is no ordinary ritual. The Ancients from beyond the Void are stirring."

Raozya could have sworn he was hearing multiple voices, ever so slightly out of sync, being produced from Joas' mouth. The idea of renting a Jigglypuff to sing his tattered mind to sleep for the night was now an option he was seriously considering. "T-Tell them to stop griping. This battle will be over soon."

A raindrop landed on Raozya's nose, followed by another, then another. This led to a sprinkle that quickly became a steady shower. Defying his screaming sense of self-preservation, he turned his head up to the sky and witnessed a mass of wicked black clouds swirling and churning overhead. Thunder was soon added to the ensemble, each burst more intense and frequent than the last. The few flashes of lightning produced a low electrical sound that was uncharacteristic and very unsettling.

"Joas...some of that thunder echo sounds like a deep, reverberating growl. I don't think that's normal."

Joas set himself down on Raozya's head and gently guided it back down so they were both now looking at Bill and Muffin. "You don't want to continue looking up. They don't like to be witnessed."

Raozya was certain his pants would soon be filled beyond capacity with his own waste if his constitution slipped any further. "They?"

"Shhhh. Pay no mind to them. Focus instead on the revitalized Muffin."

Indeed, Muffin was now back on his feet, and his expression showed nothing but a muted lust for blood.

Now in a panic, Chuck jumped to his feet and prepared to sprint over to Raozya. His plans were promptly foiled by a supercharged, but eerily silent, bolt of lightning, which acted as a very effective propellant for his stratospheric flight into the distance.

Bill continued to rub lotion on his chest while chanting various encouraging phrases, many of which were laced with unsettling references to love and unity.

Napalm was trying his very hardest to ignore his survival instincts, which were going berserk due to the otherworldly storm overhead. He had to focus on Muffin. He _needed_ to win this time!

Muffin disappeared with the next clap of thunder. Napalm's heart skipped a beat when he realized that Muffin's face was right next to his, a toothy mouth open wide and preparing to unleash another Hyper Voice attack.

The attack hit nothing but a fading silhouette of energy. Muffin stopped and hastily observed his surroundings, then glared at Raozya after the latter put Napalm's now-occupied Poké Ball back on his belt.

Bill's absent-minded ritual continued for a few more seconds before he felt one of Muffin's tendrils tapping him on the leg. He directed his attention down at the unhappy Sylveon, reading the creature's displeasure and finally mimicking the expression. "Oh, the battle is once again over prematurely. Pity."

When he examined Raozya's position, the latter had already left for another field. Flustered, he called Muffin back into the appropriate Poké Ball and shook his head in disappointment. "That Rozz is something else."

Bill drew his eyes up to the sky. The storm had subsided, revealing a clear blue sky with a few cottonball clouds dotting it. "Huh. Dunno what that was all about."


	4. Chapter 4

The tall, lanky man recoiled in surprise. "Like, zoinks! Ya beat me!"

Raozya called his Kecleon, Tonguey the Tongueslinger, back into its Poké Ball and stuck it to his belt. "Yeah, but that was a good battle. You're not bad at all."

Shabby, the opposing Trainer, called his unconscious Ivysaur back into its Ball. "Like, totally pro, man! You're gonna do good in the Gyms!" He then looked down at his Mightyena companion. "Whaddaya think, Scoogy?"

The bubbly Mightyena hopped once. "Reah! Rearry good rattle!"

Scoogy's speaking, albeit heavily broken, had still surprised Raozya when he had first witnessed it about ten minutes prior. The existence of talking Pokémon besides Joas and himself was not news to him, but he wasn't used to coming across them.

Shabby and Scoogy departed shortly thereafter, waving cheerfully. Raozya returned the wave, excessively pleased that these new opponents were not slobbering freaks like so many others. Perhaps it was a new chapter for the day — an omen of good things to come. _Better not jinx it_ _with that kind of thinking. Sergeant Murphy seems to be working overtime today_ _._

The only omen Joas saw was a lack of prime material for his PokéVision videos. While Bill did unnerve him, the first video he had posted had already surpassed a hundred thousand views. The second video, which he had recorded after hastily planting his phone on Raozya's backpack during the last battle with Bill, was nearing fifty thousand. The comments ranged from frantic laughter and praise, to accusations of falsification and stage acting, replete with profanity and unrepeatable insults. The laughter and praise, however, outweighed the negatives by a massive margin.

Then there were the conspiracy theorists who were shrieking about how the world was ending due to Bill's ritual, often making mention of "Cthulhu" and "The Great Old Ones." Joas took delight in curtly replying that they should watch the video to the end, which clearly shows the storm dissipating. Most of them remained unconvinced that the danger was gone.

Raozya's ears picked up the sound of cheering in the distance, presumably from one person. This boosted his mood until he turned and saw Chuck racing toward him. The long arm of the "law" was becoming more obvious. _You're a jerk, Murphy._

In a repeat of what had happened earlier, a giant fist made of dirt and rock exploded up from the ground and sent Chuck's screaming bulk spinning off to a distant land, right through the sound barrier. Raozya turned his head to Joas, who merely nodded.

"Ahoy there, young'un! I don't suppose yer a Trainer, are ye?"

A distant clap of thunder told Raozya to be on his guard. He really didn't _want_ to turn around to see the source of the voice; the day had been cruel enough to him. However, if it _was_ a legitimate Trainer like the friendly but ambiguously sober Shabby, ignoring them would be rude.

 _Caution_ , whispered Raozya's mental voice. _This one feels off. By the way, you now owe the handsome Joas five pickles for keeping you in good relations with the Great Old Ones earlier. Bow before him._

Raozya looked down at Joas and glared. Joas did not make direct eye contact, keeping his head aimed at the newcomer, but his eyes occasionally darted in Raozya's direction. The guilt was almost tangible.

Raozya sighed and turned to the newcomer. The bearded and graying man appeared to be in his late sixties or early seventies, hunched over slightly and using a cane. A pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes, and his outfit was dated but classy. His smile was both kind and reassuring.

 _Well, maybe he's not that crazy._ "Hello there. I am indeed a Trainer."

The man approached further. "Well that's great! I got a hankerin' for a battle. You up fer it?"

"Sure thing! Uh, by the way, what Pokemon are you planning to use first, if you don't mind me asking?" _If it's a Sylveon, so help me..._

"First one, ya say? Well..."

The man carefully plucked a Poké Ball from his belt. He held it up to his eyes, twisting and turning the Ball, examining it with a fond grin. "It's a Tyranitar. Been with me fer ages. We have so many mem'ries together."

Could it be that this one was genuine? Could it be that Raozya had finally broken his conga line of humiliation, starting with Shabby? "That's pretty neat. I've got a Honedge who would be more than happy to—"

A _pop_ sound preceded Cutstab's manifestation. Filled with glee and anticipation, it hopped and bobbed in the air while excitedly waving its sash.

Raozya's urge to facepalm was offset by his surprise. _Huh, convenient this time_. "Yeeaaah, this is Cutstab. Shall we battle?"

The man gave a dark smirk. "That's a mighty fine blade. Come on out, Tyranitar."

He tossed the corresponding Poké Ball. In a flash, out popped a Tyranitar in all its intimidating stature...of three feet. Its natural armor appeared to be made of colored styrofoam, its eyes were obviously buttons that had been crudely sewn to a mask, and it was standing on all fours instead of upright. The fact that a different face could be seen inside the gaping mouth made the outfit twice as ridiculous.

"This here's my Tyranitar. Are you not amaz—"

"Cutstab, return."

The Honedge flailed its sash with frustration as it was converted to energy and returned to its little spherical home.

The look of sadness on the man's face threatened to bathe the immediate area in a flood of tears. "But...what did..."

Raozya was already walking away. "I've seen better disguises on Team Rocket. Try again next time, Bill."

Bill sprinted ahead of Raozya and fanned his arms out, hoping to stop the latter's escape. His dollar-store beard was now hanging off to one side. "No! We need to finish our battle from earlier!"

Raozya pointed a finger at another field behind Bill. "Hey look! It's a flock of Sylveon!"

The temptation appeared briefly, but Bill did not budge. His flattening eyebrows attested to his resolve. "Really, Rozz. That has been tried many times before and failed."

Raozya shrugged. "You're right, it's just a field of flowers."

Without even thinking, Bill spun around and observed the area behind him with curious eyes. "Ooooh, I love flowers..."

While there were a few flowers here and there, it could hardly be considered a field of them. Bill cringed and sighed. "You know, even if you run off now, I'll still see—"

He turned around. There was nothing.

Bill scanned the area, but to no avail. Raozya had simply vanished. _I didn't know he could run that fast._

• • •

The air rippled and warped before Raozya made himself visible again. This was the beauty of being a tricky Zoroark.

This new area was across the highway and well out of sight from the other field. There were more rocks, trees, and hills, as well as a greater number of frolicking Pokémon and far fewer Trainers. A gentle breeze carried a crisp freshness into his nostrils. It was the perfect place to practice.

Raozya rounded a short hill and sat atop a flattened rock for a rest. Joas popped out of Raozya's backpack and made his seat a few feet away. A plastic container of miniature pickles, encompassed by a halo of purple energy, floated up from the backpack and opened itself, emptying a few of its contents into the air. Some went to Joas, while the rest went into orbit around Raozya's head. The latter casually plucked them from the air and chowed down without thinking much of the absurdity. He had come to expect these things from Joas.

"You know," said Raozya between bites, "I just realized that you never disappeared when you put yourself into my expensive and only Ultra Ball."

Joas sheepishly looked away for a moment.

"That means you are technically my seventh Pokémon on register." He shot Joas a hard stare. "What did you do?"

"I believe the better question is, can you count?"

Raozya's eyebrows furrowed a moment before his eyes widened. He felt around on his magnetic Poké Ball belt and noticed a blank spot. "I had a Venipede here."

"You are correct. You HAD a Venipede there."

"But how did..." — Raozya paused — "You know what? Not even gonna ask."

"You just did. Don't you wish to know the tantalizing secrets of the Espurr?"

Raozya locked eyes with Joas. "I still value my sanity."

"I'm surprised you even used that word, what with all the events over the past week or the fact that Bill is about to discover us."

That feeling was back — the one that seized Raozya's survival instincts by the neck and shook them like a paint mixer. It happened every time Joas said "incoming," and he might as well have said it this time.

Raozya dropped to the ground and cast a cautious gaze across the surrounding landscape. Sure enough, he spotted Bill near the road they had crossed. Bill was holding a mass of cloth — doubtless his next disguise — in his arms while frantically looking around for his desired battle buddy. Muffin was trotting along next to him, having been crammed into a Psyduck outfit that could not classify as a disguise in the barest sense of the word. The Sylveon's bitter expression gave Raozya doubts that the two would be partners for much longer.

The blood within Raozya's veins chilled into a stream of tiny icebergs when Muffin's eyes fell upon his. An instant later, Raozya was invisible and leaving the area.

Muffin glared.


	5. Chapter 5

The bark of the tree could have caught fire had Raozya's anger been anymore intense. He had become one with the salt — a being of pure, edgy bitterness. He wanted an army of Moltres to do an aerial firebombing campaign on the immediate area. He might even torch Camphrier Town just to be sure that all the freaks were gone. _Burn it...BURN IT ALL_ _TO ASHES_ _..._

"At this rate, you will never need another salt shaker at the dinner table. Your food will have all the flavor it needs just by being in your presence."

Raozya shot a hateful glare at the smug cat. "Are you sure you want to be reading my thoughts right now?"

Joas floated up and sat on the underside of a branch of an adjacent tree, relaxing upside-down. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. My senses can only ignore so much before I get genuinely curious. It was getting to the point where I could taste the ocean."

Raozya smashed the bottom of his fist against the tree. His human disguise flickered. "What can I do? How do I stop this? I can't use my Domination—"

"Pistol. Get one."

"Yes, because I'm made of money."

Joas cast his soulless gaze down at Raozya. "You know, you could start by not being a whiny little beta. Your brain, tiny as it is, can still function just enough to formulate a decent plan. Should I remind you that you managed to escape a small army of Team Flare grunts? Have you forgotten that you survived Tierno's demented dancing and obesity-inducing gaming binges?"

The Espurr's backhanded motivational speech did have some merit, Raozya knew. Tough as it was, he knew he could come up with something. He had to if he wanted to keep his sanity. _But what is it?_

Feeling that his remaining frustration needed to be vented, he kicked the tree as hard as he could, putting some attack power into it. Leaves, nuts, and twigs scattered and fell to the ground, but some other objects fell with them.

With a _thud_ , the grassy ground received two people in white uniforms, followed by a Meowth and a Wobbuffet.

"Ow! Jessie, I told you not to move around so much!" exclaimed the blue-haired male, rubbing his now-bruised backside.

His red-haired female counterpart stood and popped her back in a way that made Joas wince. "Oh, get off my case, James! I didn't jolt the tree THAT hard! It's clear we should place the blame on Meowth. One of his inventions probably exploded in his pocket or something."

The little Meowth unplugged his head from a new hole in the ground and shook off the dirt. "Are you guys nuts?! I don't know Earthquake, and my stuff don't go off like one of Clemont's contraptions!"

"Wobbuffet!" was the only word uttered by the other Pokémon. However, the proclamation was shaky in its delivery and accompanied by a pointing arm.

The two human components of Team Rocket looked at their blue friend with confusion before looking in the direction of the creature's fear.

Initially, they saw nothing but an intense red glow. Clarity returned after a moment, and what they beheld was not a human, but an enraged Zoroark in an attack stance.

Surging with crimson energy, Raozya put his wrists together and fanned his clawed paws like a flower. He held them ahead of himself, and something like a black hole formed in between them.

The white of Jessie and James' uniforms glowed in the ultraviolet light a few moments before the horrifying weight of their circumstances manifested.

What appeared to be a small atomic explosion consisting of rings of black light launched the four Team Rocket operatives across the landscape, parting the adjacent forest and scattering debris. Their noisy, scream-laden trip through the chunky innards of a hill created a starburst of stone and dirt on the other side, interspersed with several Diglett and Aron that were less than amused by the event.

What finally hit the ground was not a disheveled heap of Team Rocket, but a tumbling flurry of fists and claws shrouded in a cloud of dust. One by one, Team Rocket was ejected from the ball of fighting, allowing them to race off into the distance while leaving behind a shower of tears.

A glowing purple fog instantly surrounded a sizable portion of the tears. Weightlessly, they traveled back to a certain Espurr and became a whirlpool that funneled into his eager mouth.

Beauty. That was the only word he could conjure amidst the chaos. For the briefest of moments, a warm smile sat upon his lips. To him, that brief moment felt like minutes.

This, of course, went unnoticed by the raging Raozya. A slight pulse traveled through the air, rustling his fur, but this was dismissed.

Joas smacked his lips with satisfaction and gazed up at Raozya. "You are a master poet. Perhaps you can add a few more stanzas by channeling your Dark Pulse through a special gun?"

The air around Raozya rippled and warped as he reactivated his human disguise. His mind took a few moments to absorb what Joas had said, and his expression of surprised realization confirmed it. "Hey, that's not a bad idea."

Raozya produced a notepad and jotted a note about the subject before returning it to his backpack. It really wasn't a bad idea at all, and he would be giving it quite a bit of consideration once his shopping list for the proper tools was fulfilled. This was in conjunction with his desire to research and develop Poké Balls that could capture humans.

"OHHHHH! So that was _you!_ " exclaimed an approaching voice, young and enthusiastic.

A single tear — visible, physical despair — trickled down Raozya's cheek. Why did that voice have to return? Why now?

With his usual Pokémon hat and little lightning squiggles on his cheeks stood Ash in all his frustrating glory. "I remember you from earlier! Nice job with Team Rocket! Wanna battle?"

Raozya's look of utter contempt should have been enough of an indicator for his answer, but Ash was dense enough that the visual cue was lost. _Might as well roll with it._ "Sure, why not."

"Awesome!" Ash exclaimed. He ran to a nearby clearing and ushered Raozya over.

Perhaps defeating the hatted one would help to dispel some of Raozya's fury. Each footstep to the appropriate area could have produced dusty white plumes of salt, but at least it wasn't Bill. _Dear sweet APRICORNS, I hope it isn't_ _actually_ _Bill._

Salvo's Poké Ball was tossed ahead, producing the contained Pokémon. "It might be time for a hug, Salvo. Are you ready?"

The little Eevee looked back at his Trainer and squealed "Vee!" which was interpreted as "Boom!" in Raozya's ears.

With a level of wide-eyed enthusiasm that bordered on inhuman, Ash cried out, "Yeah! Let's go, Pikachu!"

From behind a tree scampered his signature Pokémon, running along on all fours. Yup, it was just a standard Pikachu with its standard fluffy tail, long body, and fabric head with another face barely showing from within the mouth.

One could almost hear the fracturing of glass. Raozya shot an accusing finger at Ash, his eyes practically alight with fire. "Do not insult me, Bill! I mean, that's not such bad disguise on yourself, but you really need to work on Muffin's disguises."

Ash's enthusiasm instantly morphed into confusion. "Huh? Bill? Muffin? What are you talking about?"

Before Ash could finish his sentence, he and his 'Pikachu' had been surrounded by jagged boulders, each giving off a faint purple glow. Raozya and Joas simultaneously gave each other a thumbs-up without meeting eyes.

"Hey, what's this?! You're not with Team Rocket, are you?!"

Raozya glared at Ash through a gap in the boulder wall. "I know it's you, Bill. Your disguise for Muffin is terrible ONCE AGAIN."

"Disguise?! What are you talking about?"

The fur along Raozya's spine stood on end as a feeling of impending chaos overtook his body. Once again, his sense of safety had been launched off a skyscraper without a parachute.

The sense of danger was more than felt by Napalm and Joas. The former stood at the ready, his flaming stick grasped tight and primed for a fiery attack. He knew this feeling, and he resolved that he wouldn't be intimidated by these eldritch vibes this time.

Joas, on the other hand, merely stood in place with his usual blank expression. He had already begun recording his next PokéVision video. _Glorious. I can already feel their gaze upon us._

At that moment, a familiar face rounded a large tree nearby. Bill's hands came together a few times in a slow, mocking clap. "Nice going, Rozz."

The exasperated screaming that initially occupied Raozya's head was drowned-out by louder thoughts of confusion, manifesting verbally as a flat "Uhh...what."

"Impressed?" asked Bill with a smug smirk.

"No. There is only confusion. What was the point of this? And why are you being smug about it?!"

Bill spread his arms wide, as if presenting a grand revelation. "Don't you see? You were expecting me, but it was actually Ash, and now it's me! You thought you were the master of trickery, but now your throne has been shattered! Now we must battle!"

Their attention was pulled away by Ash waving his arms. "Uhh, I don't get it. All I wanted was a battle with this Rozz guy. Pikachu was really excited!"

Raozya flatbrowed and looked down at the clearly fake Pikachu. "That's...that's not a Pikachu. That's a Sylveon. His name is Muffin, to be precise."

"Muffin? But that's Pikachu!" cried Ash.

Bill snapped his fingers. The Sylveon-in-a-Pikachu deflated as a Furret darted out of the mouth. It turned its face up to Raozya and the others with a puzzled expression.

Had there ever been an example of what a person's expression would be if they had seen a mind-breaking eldritch abomination face-to-face, the sheer horror on Ash's face would have been the prime candidate. "Pikachu was a Furret all along?!"

The shock of the nested disguise had been lost on Raozya. He simply stared at Ash, a mix of disgust and disbelief having replaced all other emotion. What a day it had been. "D-didn't you think your Pikachu looked odd even for a second?!"

"Well, I-"

What would have undoubtedly been another vapid response by Ash was thus cut off by Bill, "Nonsense! Your real Pikachu is over there!"

Bill pointed to another clearing visible through some nearby trees. There sat Pikachu, chugging away at an oversized bottle of ketchup. It had apparently been doing so for a while, judging by how rotund it had become. Proverbial sparkles and flowers floated in front of its eyes — a state of true bliss.

With shock in his eyes and without another word to the others, Ash effortlessly launched one of the boulders aside and ran off to meet his little buddy. "Hey, there you are! I didn't know you could find ketchup in the woods!"

A strange combination of disgust and awe filled Raozya's head, but that was quickly replaced by a feeling of imminent danger. A blur flashed in the corner of his eye, accompanied by the sound of a whip. The next thing he knew, Salvo was being suspended in the air by a pastel tendril. The Eevee shrieked in surprise.

"And NOW," continued Bill with triumph in his words and savagery in his eyes, "you have no _choice_ but to finish this battle!"

An explosion of red mist and tattered clothing finished off Bill's sentence, followed by a pair of smoking shoes tumbling to the ground. Raozya holstered his Domination, relishing in the long-awaited peace.

That's how it played out in his mind, anyway. In reality, his Domination would remain in his backpack. Joas was right: he had enough brain power to defeat Bill. "You want a battle? Fine, you got one. Let's finish it WITHOUT something freaky."

Bill gave a smug smirk. "What am I, a madman? Let's battle."

His final words served as a prompt for Muffin to release Salvo. Not a moment after Salvo hit the ground, the same tendril whipped the Eevee across the face and into a tree.

Raozya hadn't uttered the first syllable of "Quick Attack!" before Muffin had darted to the tree and whipped Salvo into the next one. The look in the Sylveon's eyes indicated with vibrant clarity that he was in no mood for theatrics. This was war.

The words finally escaped Raozya's mouth, and Salvo knocked skulls with Muffin in the blink of an eye, accompanied by a loud _crack_ in the air.

"Again!"

Salvo repeated the move during Muffin's brief moment of delirium. Another _crack_ assaulted the eardrums of those present.

At Bill's command, all four of Muffin's tendrils wrapped around Salvo. The ground received numerous pits as the Eevee was used as a makeshift wrecking ball.

All of this occurred in roughly three seconds, and during this time, Raozya's mind struggled to make sense of it all. Something seemed...off. It was as though Bill was only part of the problem this time. Muffin seemed more determined than ever to defeat his adversary, and it didn't seem like it was for the sake of pleasing Bill.

 _I think Muffin just wants out of this._

A moment later, Salvo was freed from Muffin's grasp. He landed on the ground with a soft _thump_ , but the lightning-fast battle had left him dazed. He shook his head, trying to focus his eyes.

Focus came quickly after an open lotion bottle landed in front of him, prompting him to jump in reaction. He turned his focus up to Bill and blurted an inquisitive "Vee?"

"Go ahead and use it. Perhaps it will help. A gift of good faith, as it were."

Raozya stomped his foot. "HEY! I said no freaky stuff!"

"Come now, Rozz. This lotion has benefits, like boosting morale! Don't you want your precious gem of fluff and cuddles to have a better chance at succeeding?" — Bill looked back down at Salvo with a smile that was soft but horribly ominous — "The lotion is like a cuddle in a bottle!"

Raozya further resented the SIMBYL corporation for failing to make the Domination a fully functional product. He figured Bill would be drifting in the wind by now. "That's freaky! There's nothing beneficial about it! I bet it's full of shame and cancer!"

Salvo narrowed his eyes at Bill, responding with a distrusting "Veeee..." that Raozya proudly interpreted as "Do not insult me."

Like a withering flower, Bill's smile descended into a dark frown. "It puts the lotion on the skin, or else it gets the whip again."

An unearthly chill traveled through Joas' fur, making it rise momentarily and sending a shiver that rattled his smartphone. He figured that if this kept up, the sky would be raining unspeakable things from another universe in no time.

A defiant "Vee!" served as Salvo's response to Bill's offer.

The Eevee found himself airborne once again, accompanied by a stinging sensation on his face. This happened an instant after Bill had snapped his fingers.

A _thump_ and a tumble brought Salvo back to a stop on the ground, surrounded by a descending cloud of shredded grass. Some of this grass came to rest on Raozya's feet.

The look that Bill cast upon Raozya contained no shortage of venom, and his subsequent words were laced with it. "Perhaps, Rozz, you can encourage your floundering Eevee in a way that my spat-upon gift could not."

A response attack had almost escaped Raozya's lips before a spot of logic stopped it. This surfaced as a wry smile. "Oh, encouragement? I think I have something, and it's not lotion."

Raozya reached into his backpack and produced the jar of pickled peppers, spurring the ascension of one of Bill's eyebrows.

"Are those pickles? You consider THOSE to be superior to lotion? I had higher hopes for you than that."

The insult went right past Raozya's ears. He tossed one of the spicy morsels to Salvo, who snapped it out of the air with pleasure.

He cast his gaze down at Salvo, his face darkened with muted savagery. "Time for a hug."

 _Yessss_ was the only thing running through Joas' mind as he watched. Napalm, as well, displayed his approval as a smirk.

The Eevee vanished, along with the murder in Muffin's eyes. The latter kept his battle stance while darting his eyes across the battlefield, but his opponent was nowhere to be seen. Bill was equally surprised, although his arrogant face remained largely unchanged.

A sensation was felt on one of Muffin's tendrils, but it was too subtle and quick to prompt a reaction. His blood ran cold as the word "Veee..." was hissed into one of his ears.

• • •

Coins clattered into a glass jar on the sidewalk. The noisy hustle and bustle of the city street was temporarily drowned out by the sound of applause.

The two performers, both rotund but surprisingly graceful, twirled and bowed in conclusion of their interpretive dance act.

The crowd began to disperse, and Tierno hefted the now-heavy jar into his hands. He smiled. "Looks like a good day's work, buddy!"

"Brai!" was the Braixen's response to his Trainer, his chubby vulpine face radiating happiness like a child in a candy store.

The two were immediately buffeted by a brief but intense gale-force wind, but their training in footwork kept their feet on the ground. Newspapers and other light objects swirled through the air and tumbled across the street in unison with the shrieks of bystanders.

"Wha-wha-what was that?!"

"Braiiii?!"

Their attention was drawn by several murmuring bystanders who were pointing away from the city. The distant, rising plume of dust removed all confusion as to the source of the chaos. Rocks, branches, and other heavier particles soon lost their momentum and rained back down on the blast site.

Tierno reached underneath his beanie to scratch an itchy spot. "Huh, that's weird. Wonder what happened?"

His Braixen shrugged. "Braixen brai."

• • •

The screen on Joas' phone flickered back to life. A dirt clod exploded in a starburst atop the purple bubble of energy protecting the Espurr. _Oh, truly magnificent. Bravo, Salvo. Bravo._

For Raozya, the moment was sweet — not unlike the tree fruit that had become lodged in his mouth. He bit down and allowed the rest to fall off to the ground, although it took him a few moments to realize that it fell _up_. Indeed, the ground was above his head.

His feet, also situated above his head, slowly peeled free from the impact crater in the tree, and this led to the rest of him coming loose. He hit the ground and coughed.

Similarly, a nearby boulder saw the release of Bill from its surface. Once Bill had cleared the debris from his face and the pebbles from his mouth, he beheld the new crater that lay before him. The impact of what he saw paled in comparison to his escalating sense of panic. "This...this...what. M-Muffin? Where is..."

Unsteady from the blast, Bill stumbled as he hastily surveyed the large crater. Every piece of debris larger than a pebble was overturned in his search for his little friend. None yielded.

The surrealism of it all hit him like a truck. How could it happen this way? Had he actually _lost?_ Had Rozz's Eevee seriously just _explode_ _d_ _?_ Had all of his methodical training and ritualistic morale-boosting truly culminated into something as tragic and bizarre as _this?_

The soil beneath him became muddy as it received the rivers of despair that were now streaming down his cheeks. He fell to his knees and spread his arms wide while bellowing "MUFFIIIIIIN!" into the sky, prompting Raozya's face to contort into his thus-greatest expression of confusion and disgust.

In the midst of Bill's noisy lamentation, the ground behind him received the relevant Sylveon with a heavy _THUD_ and a starburst of dust, marking the conclusion of the pink Pokémon's aerial journey.

In the same manner, Salvo made landfall right in front of Raozya, sending a shower of dirt and dust all around. The Eevee rebounded with a bit of unintended flourish, its unconscious body twirling in a little dusty plume. During this brief moment, Raozya caught a glimpse of the contented smile that rested on the Eevee's singed face.

Napalm and Joas made their way over, their smiles reflecting that of Salvo. With a burst of purple light, Joas removed the grit and grime from Salvo's fur. A second burst of light, this one in the form of a beam, marked Salvo's return to his Poké Ball.

Raozya placed the Ball back onto his magnetic belt and gave it a gentle pat. He would be sure to reward Salvo's diligence after a visit to the Poké Center.

He turned his attention to Bill. The poor guy was still on his knees, although his arms were now in an embrace around himself. Rocking back and forth, his words had turned into frantic mumbling. What little sanity that had once resided in his eyes was now gone, replaced with a thousand-yard stare commonly seen in shell-shocked soldiers.

Muffin had regained his senses and stability by that point. Still behind Bill, he turned his emotionless eyes up to his sobbing master. He had known, deep down, that the day would eventually come, and it was just as mind-numbingly pathetic as he had expected.

The Sylveon plucked his Poké Ball from Bill's belt with one of his pastel tendrils. In a blur, the Ball was chucked against the nearest boulder, right next to the Bill-shaped indentation. The Ball disappeared in a burst of metal fragments and electricity.

Nothing more needed to be said or done. Muffin sauntered off into the forest, now free at last. To those who were watching, they could see a faint spring of cheer in each of Muffin's steps — cheer that had been absent up to that point.

Raozya opened his mouth to remark on the situation, but the rustling of bushes stole the words.

To the left, a squad of five people emerged from the undergrowth. Each was clad in a white lab coat, and four of them wielded an assortment of implements that had clearly been designed for crowd control and capture. The other held out an empty white jacket with straps and buckles.

The lead member, a middle-aged man with glasses and a short, gray beard, pointed a dramatic finger at the soggy mess that was Bill. "THERE HE IS! GET HIM!"

Bill made no reaction to the loud proclamation. Nothing mattered anymore: not the battle, not Rozz, and not the swarm of whitecoats that were now descending upon him.

Raozya, Napalm, and Joas watched as the group of people, who Raozya assumed were asylum workers, carried the now straitjacket-clad Bill in the direction of the highway. Barely visible through the trees, a pair of parked vehicles could be seen — a white van with an insane-looking smiley face painted on the side, and an armored SWAT truck surrounded by armed commandos.

Upon seeing the returning squad and their quarry, the commandos smiled and cheered, pumping their fists in victory. Bill and his captors were escorted into the van, and both vehicles departed shortly thereafter.

"If there ever was a proper _deus ex machina_ , we have just witnessed it," said Joas just before levitating up to Raozya's backpack. He descended into the open top and zipped himself in.

"Yes," responded Napalm. That one word carried an air of victory and relief.

Raozya nodded. "Let's get outta here."

What a day indeed.

• • •

A soda can clattered and thumped its way down the vending machine's chute and into Raozya's waiting hand. It hissed as he popped it open, and he took a hearty swig. A needed bit of refreshment.

Speaking of refreshment, nothing could compare to the feeling of Bill _not_ stalking him. He could actually enjoy his surroundings now! The fresh evening breeze that caressed the streets and walkways of Camphrier Town's outer districts was cool and comforting! Even the sounds of nearby traffic were somewhat pleasant!

What wasn't so pleasant was the muffled sound of "Incoming" that emanated from his backpack.

His invisible fur now standing straight up, he slowly turned his head to the vending machine and the new noises rumbling from within.

Not a moment later, the front panel swung open, allowing Chuck to tumble out in an avalanche of soda cans.

The rotund human hopped to his feet and dusted himself off before locking his sights on Raozya, the former's eyes being full of excited savagery while the latter's were nothing but white ovals of horror. "Hey buddy! What a coincidence finding you here! You still thinking about that Gym proposal?"

The answer to Chuck's question was metaphorically written on Raozya's back, which was all that Chuck could see as the Zoroark made his way down the sidewalk.

Perhaps peace would come another day.

Not taking the hint, Chuck called out, "Hey, can I come along?"

Raozya responded with a passionless wave, which Chuck, of course, interpreted as an invitation that he accepted with a sprint.

Perhaps, Raozya thought, it was time for a massage.


End file.
